November 6, 2014

LOVE IN A TIME OF ALIEN INVASION -- CHAPTER 23

The Cold War between the Kiiote and the Yown’Hoo has
become a shooting war.On Earth, there
are three Triads one each in Minneapolis, Estados United; Pune, India; and
Harbin, China. Protected by the Triad Corporation, they intend to integrate not
only the three peoples and stop the war that threatens to break loose and
slaughter Humans and devastate their world.; but to stop the war that consumes
Kiiote economy and Yown’Hoo moral fiber. The Yown’Hoo know about the
extra-Universe Braider, aliens whose own “civil war” mirrors the Cold War. The
Braiders accidentally created a resonance wave that will destroy the Milky Way
and the only way to stop it is to physically construct a sort of membrane that
will produce a canceling wave – generated from the rim of the Galaxy inward.
The Braiders don’t DO physical stuff on that scale – the Yown’Hoo-Kiiote-Human
Triads may be their only chance of creating a solution. The merger of
Human-Kiiote-Yown’Hoo into a van der Walls Society may produce a stability
capable of launching incredible expansion, creativity, longevity and wealth –
and building the Membrane to stop the wave.

The young experimental Triads are made up of the
smallest primate tribe of Humans –two; the smallest canine pack of Kiiote –
six; and the smallest camelid herd of Yown’Hoo – a prime eleven. On nursery
farms and ranches away from the TC cities, Humans have tended young Yown’Hoo
and Kiiote in secret for decades, allowing the two warring people to reproduce
and grow far from their home worlds. Grendl, Manitoba is one such place. No one
but the Triad Company has ever heard of it and the physical plant goes by the
unobtrusive name of Organic Prairie Dairy.

The city Triads never hear of anything they aren’t
spoon fed in their luxury worlds and have heard only rumors of the farms and
ranches. Surrounded by a Humanity that has degenerated into a “duck-and-cover”
society as the Big Boys fight their war, the Triads don’t care about anything
but their own lives. Oblivious, cocooned, manipulated, they have no idea that
their privileges are about to be violently curtailed and all of their biology
ransacked for the correct Membrane pattern. (update: 5/2/2014)

Lieutenant Commander Patrick
Bakhsh make a face and finally said, “It all depends on whether the trip goes
off without a hitch. The truck has some cutting-edge Human defense tech, but I’m
not sure it will protect you from a full on thermonuclear explosion. The
Unbalance – they call themselves the Key!balyemaheng – are intent on destroying
Earth as a breeding ground for Yown’Hoo, Kiiote, and Human alike. They
especially want the Triads – they see you all as a real threat to their plans.”

“Their plans?” I exclaimed. “Their
plans are to kill us all!”

He snorted, then added, “Way
bigger than that, kid.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Their plan is to capture the
Triads and torture everything out of you.” I gulped. He wasn’t being obnoxious
anymore. Just dead serious. “After that, they plan to wipe out all life on this
planet.”

“Why?” Ka’Shayla asked.

“Because it’s the only planet
anyone knows of where all three of us can raise viable young. It’s an adequate nursery
and Humans have been raising Kiiote and Yown’Hoo for nearly a hundred years.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all. Now, everyone
get in. Our first leg’s going to be bumpy.”

“Why?” this time from Qap. He
ended it with snap and a snarl.

The Commander grinned and
said, “Because Oscar over there’s gonna be the driver.”

‘Shayla didn’t protest. She
didn’t get mad ‘cause Commander Bakhsh had chosen me to do the honor. Nah. She
busted out laughing. “Hey! I can drive!”

She laughed harder.

The Triad started to mutter;
shifting. I knew them well enough to see that if I was gonna lead, I had to
take control. But I couldn’t smack her. That was plain wrong – and the Kiiote
and Yown’Hoo knew enough about Humans to know that it was wrong, too. Both of
their people valued leading by example, though to tell you the truth, a little
hind quarters nipping and butt-snapping helped to emphasize a Kiiote Leader’s
and Pack Mother’s commands at times.

Which gave me an idea. “I may
not be a great driver yet,” I snarled, “But I’m going to learn how!” I didn’t
give ‘Shayla time to save face. I brushed past her, making sure I clipped her
shoulder as I ran for the truck and leaped into the driver’s seat and shouted, “Anyone’s
who’s ready to do this had better get in or I’m leaving without you!”

A few seconds later, Herd,
Pack, and with a look that could have blasted paint off an armored tank, the
other half of the Tribe, followed me.

“I’ll be riding shotgun,” the
Commander said as he went to the side-panel of the truck and thumbed it. A
panel a meter long opened. A giant rifle, glowing wicked red a choice points,
extended out to him on a rack. He took it and thumbed another spot. This time a
helmet popped out. When he was tricked out, he came back and sat down in the
shotgun seat and said, “Ready kid?”

I had to clear my throat
before I could say, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He nodded, adding, “Then
Godspeed to us all.”

“I don’t believe in a god.”

Without looking at me, he
said, “I believe we need as much help as we can get, Kid.”

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GUY STEWART

is a husband supporting his wife as a six+ year(!) breast cancer survivor, a father, father-in-law, grandfather, foster father, friend, writer and teacher who maintains a SF/YA/Childrens writing blog by the name of POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAYS that showcases his opinion and offers his writing up for comment. He has 55 publications to his credit including one books (1993 CSS Publishing)! He also maintains blogs for the West Suburban Summer School and GUY'S GOTTA TALK ABOUT BREAST CANCER! His Amazon page is here: http://www.amazon.com/ and type in my name!